Artificial
by Ridel
Summary: Having left Cybertron in a seemingly endless quest for new sources of energon, The Autobots come across some interesting characters in the void of space.


Time. It was a funny thing, wasn't it? You could never have just the right amount of it. He remembered points of his life where it's lacking had been the single most important thing in the universe. Not enough time _NOT ENOUGH TIME._

She'd never make it into the lift in time. He'd never be able to stop her in time. He'd never be able to fix the facility in time.

But now he was positively drowning in it.

How long had it been since he'd been (ha) ejected from the company? How long had it been since Earth had dwindled so far in the dark that he couldn't see it anymore? How long had it been since Kevin, his little name for the space core - Well, if he was going to be stuck forever in space with the bloke he might as well have a proper name, hadn't he? He couldn't very well just say _Hey you!_ whenever he wanted the other core's attention. Not that Kevin had ever been much for conversation. Bit of a one track mind that one. Anyway, how long since Kevin had finally entered power saving mode?

Wheatley might not have hung on his every word, but a voice besides his own in the dark had done wonders for his sense of security. Even on the occasions when it got on his nerves and he felt it driving him completely mad.

He wondered, idly, if that lady in the facility had put up with him for much the same reason. Because his endless chatter had somehow given her a sense of security in a place that was literally out to get her. It wasn't an entirely happy thought. He would have liked to think that she'd stuck with him because on some more compassionate level, she enjoyed his company.

Even now, Wheatley didn't _like_ Kevin. Definitely wasn't the first core he would have chosen to be trapped in space with. But the idea that the lady might have felt the same way about him...

Oh granted, he wouldn't hold any such feelings against her _NOW._ Not after he'd gone completely off his rocker and tried to straight up murder her. No. Of course not. He'd probably be pretty livid too, if he'd been in her shoes. Boots. In her boots.

But the thought that she might have felt that way from the beginning... Especially since he was pretty sure, had a sneaking suspicion, that she hadn't actually been brain damaged... Well, it wasn't pleasant. Let's just leave it there, shall we?

Anyway, how had he gotten onto this train of thought? Oh yes, time. It'd been ages since he'd been launched into space. Years, he imagined. His life had become one great bloody expanse of nothing. He'd spent a great deal of that time just waiting for something to happen, or to finally go offline so he didn't have to _THINK_ any more. Didn't have to think about the guilt, and the helplessness, and the rage, and the crushing sense of his own scale. But now...

"Internal power at 0.6%" A voice announced in his head.

"I know mate! I bloody know, alright?" His time was almost up. He'd be forced into power saving mode soon. And unless someone came along and decided to charge him up again, it was going to be the long sleep. And despite everything, he found that the thought still scared him. He sighed, deeply. Or at least, attempted to. It was a thing humans did, and it always seemed to calm them down. It did nothing for him. Probably because of the lack of lungs, or air come to that, he surmised.

"Well, this is it then." He said, addressing the universe as a whole.

"I've got maybe a minute left. So I just wanted to say, one very last time, that I am sorry. I made quite the arse of myself, didn't I? Heh... right, anyway... Sorry I got all those other test subjects kill- well, honestly it wasn't _really_ my fault. I mean, if someone had seen fit to maybe, you know, _tell_ me that the relaxation center... had... Alright you know, not even going to try that road. Not now. So yes. I don't actually know who any of you were, but... well, I'm sorry. I really, really am. And, and Lady? Don't remember your name as such, don't think we were ever formally introduced, but you know who you are. Anyway, I'm sorry to you too. You're not fat, you're not a monster, and... I did sort of... Oh bloody hell. I'm sorry I tried to kill you. And, and sorry for testing you before that. Oh and about punching you into that pit. Sorry about that too. And... and I think I'm about out of time here, but, hope you're doing well! You know, got out and all. And if you haven't yet, if you haven't done that, well, don't worry. 'Cause, if anyone can get out of that place it's definitely you. So you know, just, don't give up and all that. And... well, goodbye, I suppose."

"Internal power at 0.5%. Emergency power saving mode activated." And that was it, more or less. The stars dimmed, his thoughts drifted out of reach, and then there was nothing.

The two cores drifted quietly through space, side by side. Neither dead nor sleeping.

One interesting thing about the scientists of Aperture, was their blasé sense of optimism. The whole enrichment center had been designed to continue running in a world where civilization may have crumbled at any given point. It was taken for granted though, that civilization would rebuild itself, and someone would be along at some future date, and wouldn't there just be some amazing science all packed up and waiting for them.

The personality cores had been unthinkingly built with the same optimism in mind. They were shut down now. They could be offline for millennia. But sooner or later someone would come along, wake them up, and bing! The little cores would be up and running again. Doing for you whatever they had been designed to do in the first place.

As it turned out, Kevin and Wheatley were only offline for about a week, before something huge came gliding close enough to draw them into its gravitational wake.

* * *

><p>The lift doors parted with the slow hydraulic sputtering he'd come to expect. It was odd, but no matter what anyone did to try and fix them, the doors on this level always shuttered and fought not to open. Optimus didn't bother rolling his optics, or releasing a sigh of frustration. The ridiculous door was such a regular part of life now, that he simply slipped his hand through the small crack it had managed to open, and helped it the rest of the way.<p>

It seemed like a lot of things on the Ark went on the blink nowadays. Perhaps a sign of exactly how far gone they were now. It had been several vorns since they'd left Cybertron on their mission to find new energon sources. Obviously they'd had little success. But something had apparently been discovered floating in their wake just recently which had sent the scientists into an almighty clamor of excitement. Which was what had brought him down here in the first place.

"Prime! There you are!" A mech approached the Autobot leader with barely suppressed excitement. The fins on the side of his head flashed as his words tumbled out surprisingly quickly. "Sorry Percepter's not here. I'll bet not even Devistator could tear him away from the examination room right now."

"It's not a problem Wheeljack." The larger, red and blue mech said once he'd managed to exit the stubborn lift. "Now, what did he find? The report was extremely vague."

Wheeljack shook his head and motioned for the Prime to follow him. "Percepter does a better job explaining. And besides, you really gotta see 'em to believe 'em."

It wasn't long after the cryptic remark in the hallway that Optimus and Wheeljack entered the lab, and Optimus was surprised not only to find Perceptor and Ratchet present, But Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as well. They were all clustered around an examination table. They entered just in time to see the surly medic shove the red twin away, as he apparently made a motion to touch whatever was the subject of their combined attention. "They're not slagging toys, Sideswipe!" He said gruffly. "If you don't cut that out I'm banning you from the examination room."

The red twin frowned sulkily. "Oh come on, who exactly was it who flew out to get these things for you in the first place?"

"What things, Sideswipe?" The assembled mechs turned, finally noticing that they'd gained a sixth member.

"Prime!" Cried Perceptor happily, he motioned the Autobot leader closer. "You really must see this. It's simply extraordinary!"

Optimus made his way over to the table, Ratchet and Sideswipe wordlessly making room for him. He looked down.

Sitting on the table, were two extremely small metal spheres. They appeared to have some sort of curved protrudences on, well he assumed it was the front, and not much else. The back of one was open, and several fine wires spilled out of it. Perceptor had always been a dab hand when it came to working with really tiny machinery, by the way he connected new wires and replaced damaged components on such a small machine was pure artistry.

"I don't know where they came from, but what it appears we have here, Prime, is the spark chamber, for lack of a better term, of a completely alien species."

"Doesn't look like much of a spark chamber to me." Sunstreaker muttered, picking the undamaged sphere up between two fingers and peering at it. "I mean, round, sure but-"

"I did say _alien_ race, did I not? And don't touch that! It's extremely delicate!" Sunstreaker huffed and placed the little ball on the table with exaggerated care.

"How can you be sure it is a spark chamber?" Asked Prime, also feeling a bit dubious on the subject. Sideswipe groaned as the scientist's face lit back up.

"Slag, here comes the science talk again."

"Well," Said Percepter, apparently deaf to Sideswipes moaning. "I say spark chamber. And it is. Not in exactly the same sense we know it. But you see this?" Perceptor pointed out a piece of equipment that had been set carefully aside until such time as he repaired the rest of the little machine enough to allow him to reinstall it. "This little device, is a spark. A personality wholly unique in the universe. I would say hand crafted, but there's quite a bit about this little fellow I can't as yet quantify. It is quite damaged, unfortunately. And of course helpless. Torn from a much bigger body I would assume. See the singed connector port here."

"Tell him the good news." Said Ratchet from across the table.

"Ah yes, I was getting to that. You see Prime, according to my estimates; these two have been free floating in space for a little over two years. And whatever else they are, they're still alive."

This came as a bit of a surprise to the Prime.

"There is a tiny, nearly infinitesimal amount of energy still sustaining them. A different, slightly more... Oh what is the word... More _feral_ sort of energy then the converted energon we use. Oh yes, these two are in deep sleep at the moment. But I believe that in this state, these creatures could at least i_survive/i_ for centuries! Recharged even a fraction, I posit that they would come back online and never know the difference!"

"What are you asking me, Perceptor?" Asked the Prime, knowing exactly what the scientist was getting at, and how it more than likely reflected the sentiments of the room at large.

"Prime, such a being, running on a completely different sort of power then we ourselves are accustomed to... Well, speaking with it could hardly _hurt_ our efforts to find new sources of energon."

"Plus, we haven't seen a blip of action in ages. The Decepticons have been off our backs so long I'm starting to forget what not being bored even feels like." Chimed in Sideswipe. "I mean, it's not like We haven't got the time."

"I have two empty casings in the med lab we could use." Added Ratchet. "If worse comes to worse and we do end up needing them again, well it's like Perceptor said. We can always take them out again and they wouldn't know the difference."

"I can adjust the casings to house these spark chambers no problem." declared Wheeljack proudly.

"They're systems may not be anything like ours, but they _are_ surprisingly straight forward."

Five faces turned to him, each of them displaying different levels of hope. Optimus sighed.

"There is one thing that bothers me." Said the Prime, surveying the small machine currently in pieces on the table. It looked like it had been through a war, and probably had even before Perceptor had taken it apart. There where nicks and scorch marks all over the white outer casing. "You said that this individual had been torn from a much larger body. Has anyone stopped to consider why?" The assembled bots blinked. Wheeljack and Ratchet exchanged questioning glances while Sideswipe shrugged noncommittally.

Finally Percepter cleared his throat and spoke up. "I do see your point Prime. But if I may be frank, we simply do not know the circumstances involved. Could it not equally be that the alien was a victim? His companion certainly does not seem to have any physical damage."

"Besides, if the little fragger does turn out to be less then gentlemechly, it'll at least give Sides and me something to do." Said Sunstreaker, eyeing the defenseless metal ball with a mild sort of malevolence.

Prime considered Percepter's point, and to a lesser extent, Sunstreaker's. Finally, he gave his decision. "Alright. Wheeljack, you have permission to adapt two spare casings. However, and I want to make this extremely clear, I want the whole process monitored. You will not activate the new casings without informing me. And I want a security team present, just in case."

A sort of high charged triumph spread from mech to mech in the small room.

"You've got it, Prime!" Said Wheeljack, whipping off a quick salute before excitedly grabbing Ratched by the shoulder plate and dragging him out of the room.

"What the slag do you think you're doing?" The medic cried.

"C'mon Ratch! I'll need your help for this!"

"I don't remember volunteering for that." The door stuttered closed on the rest of the conversation.

Prime glanced back down at the two alien spheres. Could they really be the key they'd been searching for all this time? Could they really help end the millennia long Energon shortage? It was an awful lot of expectation that had just been placed on these two small aliens. And as Percepter had said, they'd be none the wiser until woken. It wasn't entirely fair. But then, what in the universe was?

* * *

><p><strong><em>I haven't written anything TF related in years! So I'm sorry if I messed them up too much. D:<em>**

**_Anyway, my half of a writing trade with someone on Deviantart, Who wanted a ficlet where the Aperture Bots were being studied by the Transformers._**

**_(Oh yeah! And I kind of stole the name Kevin from Wafflestories Blue Sky. Hope you don't mind!) D:_**

**_The universe was supposed to be a sort of alternate G1. The bots are still searching for new sources of energon so they can end the shortage on Cybertron, but they never crashed on Earth._**

**_I actually got part way through the scene when they wake Wheatley up, but I couldn't figure out how to finish the whole thing. *sobsobsob* So this will have to do for now. :(_**

**_If anyone's interested in seeing it continued, then please give me some ideas as to what could happen next! I have a few ideas, but nothing concrete.  
>I can't promise that I'll write it all, but I will admit, I did have fun with this. :)<em>**


End file.
